23 stycznia 2016

I really dislike poetry. I find it very hard to read, because the language of poetry seems very unnatural and forced to me. Maybe the lovers of poems say this is writing artistry - well, maybe in some cases it can be true. But for me a sophisticated form is not enough, when there is no life beneath it - life so vibrant it makes the form just a thin, transparent cloth, which doesn't stand in a way of getting what really is important. Still, I find most poems to lack this life and emotions under the thick shell of pretentious posing as an erudite who can write beautifully.
Unless we speak about Catullus.

I will sodomize you and face-fuck you, bottom Aurelius and catamite Furius,you who think, because my poems are sensitive, that I have no shame.For it's proper for a devoted poet to be moral himself, but in no way is it necessary for his poems.In point of fact, these have wit and charm, if they are sensitive and a little shameless,and can arouse an itch, and I don't mean in boys, but in those hairy old men, who can't get it up.Because you've read my countless kisses, you think less of me as a man?I will sodomize you and face-fuck you. // Catullus XVI

Ahh yes, this is what I call real poetry >D I could tell my story with his poems in six words: came for obscenities, stayed for everything. But as the only poet whose works I appreciate - and appreciate them a lot - he deserves me to write something more about him.
Year ago I wouldn't expect some Roman guy to become one of my Favourite Dead People. Year ago I would say all poems without rhymes are an even bigger piece of crap than those that have them. And one day in March suddenly Gaius Valerius Catullus entered my my life with his ancient rhymeless poetry and grew into my heart as a glorious exception. But well, ancient poems at least have rhythm, and are not contemporary pompous blabbering written in separate verses so it can sound more
profound.

Obscenity makes me laugh (that's very ancient-like of me) and this is how I got interested in this poet. But I've discovered a better sassmaster soon after, and Catullus... Catullus have already managed to speak to my soul with everything that is not fierce invectives in his poetry. What I love about it the most is how relatable it is. There are no fancy-to-the-point-of-absurdity metaphors. His words are accurate in their simplicity; it's very clearly seen they were written in the heat of the moment, with intense feelings flowing straight from the bottom of his heart. Despite this his poems not only remain very artistically composed, but also gain a new, rarely seen value - striking sincerity, when Catullus with simple words writes about big feelings: pain, which unfaithful friends, unrequited love on its various stages and death of his brother caused him.
Behind this poetry hides (hides? He is very easily seen from behind this transparent cloth...) a real person with beating heart displayed on his hand, with small joys and sadnesses of everyday life and with mischievous character. It's so easy to find a bits of oneself in what and how he writes... It's a very intelligent poetry, showing a real psychological depth - even if there is word 'dick' put *le wink* into every second poem. It needed a spark of genius and I think this poet, who lived slightly more than 2000 years ago, was indeed a genius.

3 stycznia 2016

I don't like to party on New Year's Eve. Last days of December for many years are usually the worst time of the year for me and my ideal way of spending this night is being gloriously alone and having peace. And going to sleep right after fireworks show.

But I regret nothing - I party a lot during the rest of the year (the dates below are no indicator). These might be just househeld nerd parties for two, but it doesn't mean they are worse or less intense... >D Forget torn batcave outfits - have my real party looks from 2015 >D

Me and my roommate threw a party, because we managed to change a lightbulb (yes). We dressed up as Sumerian praying figurines, because... I don't know why, probably because we were having a good laugh at their herp derp faces.

While this Sumerian garb above was only for photos, these on the other hand are my generic party clothes - an impression on my favourite fluffball of sharp wits and unreciprocated love, a Roman poet Catullus. Yes, I remember I promised to write something more about him - well, it won't happen today, but SOON~ >D

What do you need wide floor-length skirts for? For twirling, of course! It's an accidental look, because it was only meant to cover my awkward leg moves on videos (looks like I have issues also with my arms...), but it turned out quite Byzantine and I'm so going to use it more - outside parties.

A bacchante, female worshipper of Dionysus, with real wild grapevine wreath. I partied hard on that day as it was after my last finals exam; it included going outside to wander around the Old Town at sunrise at 4 am, still dressed like this.

While previous academic year went under the sign of my fangirling over Catullus, this year I found another ancient fave - Mark Antony. That womanizer and drunkard, he even wrote a defending speech on his drunkenness, but it got lost (thanks Octavian!).

Me and my roommate kicked our male flatmate out of our flat for making mess everywhere and being a nasty neighbour in other ways as well, so we threw a party in his former room to celebrate this victory. We've partied to bad German music, hence the look of a nazi lesbian, because why not.

Mark Antony again, this time with theme 'in Egypt' and making fun of Cleopatra-Nea Isis (with Isis' 'throne' headdress). It makes sense, because dude was being shamed by his fellow Romans for his oriental lifestyle, which was practically enough to make me feel sympathy towards him.

I'm not a Satan's dark offspring, a witch, a vampire, a black fallen angel, follower of the occult, cultist nor anything else from outside time and space or broadly defined mental well-being. I just dress strangely~ *offers jelly with candy bats*